


Let go of your fears and your ghosts

by yourbuttervoicedbeau (kiwiana)



Series: Kink!verse [16]
Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Anal Sex, Canon Compliant, Consensual Non-Consent, Episode: s05e02 Love Letters, M/M, POV Patrick Brewer, Patrick Brewer: Service Top, Safeword Use, Tender Sex, Under-negotiated Kink, and naturally results in, basically no one is at their best decision-making-wise, which in this case means an attempt at
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-28
Updated: 2020-09-28
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:21:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26695945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiwiana/pseuds/yourbuttervoicedbeau
Summary: “There’s something I need from you tonight, and I really don’t want to talk about why.”
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Series: Kink!verse [16]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1768552
Comments: 46
Kudos: 256





	Let go of your fears and your ghosts

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to another kink!verse instalment! Reading the earlier stories is not required (though, as the very biased author I obviously recommend it); they stand alone and are essentially canon-compliant (just with a different first meeting and their relationship being a month longer than canon) so that folks can tap out of any kinks/fetishes/etc that aren't for them as we go.
> 
> Speaking of kinks/fetishes that aren't for some people, I know not everyone reads the tags but I'm going to go ahead and **strongly encourage that you do so** before delving into this one, so you can make an informed decision. We're up to the robbery episode, and no one is making the best decisions they could be in this chapter which is a pretty standard response to traumatic events.
> 
> Please assume that if you don't see something being negotiated on-screen, they've discussed it off-screen. Also, just a reminder to please not take your kink advice from fanfic. Do your research first, and not from AO3.
> 
> Title is from Taylor Swift.

It only takes a couple of minutes after the police officer leaves and he’s stormed into the back room for Patrick to realise he’s a colossal asshole.

The worst part of it all is  _ how _ he realises. It’s not the way Stevie wouldn’t meet his eyes that brought it home, or how David shrunk in on himself at every word Patrick uttered. No, what makes Patrick realise he’s a colossal asshole is a fifteen-year-old memory forcing its way to the surface, something Patrick didn’t even realise he’d retained — the grainy robbery training video they had to sit through when he started working at Rose Video. He remembers that even then it felt hilariously out of date, and seemed pointless considering the low crime rate of his sleepy suburban hometown. But he also remembers the overarching rule, the one that was repeated over and over throughout the video until it became a running joke amongst the staff:

_ If someone tries to rob the store, assume they have a weapon and give them what they ask for. Items can be replaced; you can’t.  _

Shit. 

Patrick will be the first to admit that he’s stubborn. He digs his heels in, and the only thing worse than being wrong is having to admit he was wrong. But he was absolutely, undeniably wrong here. David — and Stevie — did the right thing. Unequivocally. And Patrick castigated them for it. Worse, he snapped at his  _ boyfriend, _ someone he loves with a depth that scares him sometimes, over whether he appropriately handled a traumatic experience. 

He takes a deep breath, squaring his shoulders as he scrubs a hand over his face. Time to eat crow — or whatever the Mrs Rose-approved alternative to that saying is.

When he steps back through to the shop floor David and Stevie are deep in whispered conversation. David’s shoulders are hunched up somewhere around his ears and it makes Patrick ache; he wants to run a soothing hand down David’s spine, see him relax, but he’s pretty sure touching David without warning is the worst possible thing he could do right now. Stevie sees Patrick first, and whatever she’s saying stutters to a stop when she does. David turns around, mouth pinched, and Patrick shoves his hands as deep into his pockets as they can go.

Stevie leans over to pick up her bag where it’s sitting beside her chair. “I’m going to go,” she says, and Patrick holds out a hand.

“Actually, can you stay a second? I need to say something to both of you.”

Stevie hesitates for a moment before finally sinking back into her chair, eyeing him carefully. The last time she fixed him with a stare like that was when she came into the store the day after Rachel arrived in town, looked him up and down, handed him a granola bar and walked out again without a word.

Somehow, he thinks she’s even less impressed with him now. Which is well-deserved.

“Guys, I’m sorry,” he blurts out, and from the startled look David and Stevie exchange it’s clear they weren’t expecting that at all. “You did the right thing and I shouldn’t have—” he fixes his gaze on David who is looking up at him from his chair, eyes wide with confusion and Patrick can’t stay away anymore; he takes a few steps forward before he kneels down, bringing himself to David’s eye level before he takes David’s face in both hands and kissing him softly. 

“I’m so sorry, David,” he says when he pulls away. David’s eyes are a little wet, but he looks back steadily. “I should never have spoken to you like that. I was worried, and scared, and— but that’s no excuse.” 

“If this is how you apologise, I’m definitely leaving,” Stevie mutters from somewhere off to his side. David snorts as Patrick finally breaks eye contact to look at her, where she already has her bag slung over her chest. He opens his mouth to apologise again, but the look she cuts him stops him dead in his tracks.

“Dude, it’s fine, don’t worry about it,” is all she says, and when she heads for the refrigerator rather than the door Patrick doesn’t say a word. God knows she’s earned a bottle of wine.

Once Stevie’s gone Patrick stands, pulling David to his feet. “Do you want me to take you back to the motel, or do you want to come to my place?” he asks, and David frowns at him.

“We’re still open for, like, four hours,” David says, his head tilted in confusion.

Patrick shrugs. “Under the circumstances, I think we can close for the day,” he says, but to his surprise David shakes his head quickly.

“Can we not? I just— I’d rather stay busy, I think, I don’t know.” He’s wringing his hands, and Patrick wraps his own fingers around them to squeeze gently.

“If that’s what you want to do, David.”

“It is.” 

The rest of the day is mostly normal, though David is a little clingier than usual; he follows Patrick every time he has to go into the back for something, which to be fair isn’t a rare occurrence but it’s usually for making out purposes, not just… hovering. And Patrick makes sure to get his hands on David as much as possible — squeezing his arm, brushing his lower back, hands on his hips every time they need to move past each other — because he knows David thrives on physical touch. Sure enough, David does seem to relax throughout the afternoon and it makes the knot in Patrick’s stomach unravel, just a little.

He sends David off to dinner with his family with a long kiss and heads home, only to find the house dark and a note on the counter from Ray saying that he’s in Elmdale until late. Patrick worries his lip between his teeth, thinking hard — they both had an awful day, though David’s was immeasurably worse, but that could go either way. David might want to stay at home, with his family, or they might be a little too much for him right now. In the end he decides to leave it up to David, flicking him a quick text before he pulls some leftover chicken out of the fridge to make himself a sandwich for dinner. He’s had two before his phone finally buzzes with a response from David.

_ Pick me up in an hour? _

Patrick lets out a breath he didn’t realise he was holding.

* * *

“There’s something I need from you tonight, and I really don’t want to talk about why.”

The short drive between the motel and Ray’s is familiar enough that Patrick can risk turning his head for a second longer than his high school Driver’s Ed instructor would have recommended, raking his eyes over David’s face. David is staring straight ahead, his gaze fixed somewhere past the windscreen, but the line of his jaw is taut and he’s twisting the fabric of his sweater in his hands.

“Whatever you need, David,” Patrick replies, his voice gentle.

There’s a long pause. “I want you to hold me down and fuck me.”

It’s… not what Patrick was expecting. But  _ hold me down and fuck me _ is, by their standards, pretty vanilla and if it’s what David needs— 

“And I need you to ignore me when I say no.”

Patrick’s foot slips off the gas in shock; luckily there’s no one behind him, and he recovers quickly. “David,” he says carefully when his brain comes back online, “there’s no  _ way _ we can do that without discussing it.”

“What’s to discuss?” David’s voice edges higher as he turns his head not towards Patrick but away, staring out the window. “We have a safeword. That’s what it’s  _ for. _ I can still stop you if I actually need you to stop.”

“Yeah, but—”

“If you’re not going to, it’s fine,” David cuts him off. “But you said  _ whatever I need _ and I need to not talk about this.” 

They’ve finally arrived and Patrick pulls his car up to the curb outside, deep in thought. The thing is, he knows that David plays up  _ I need this _ sometimes — when Patrick’s been teasing him for too long or when Patrick is close to coming or just because he wants to wind Patrick up — because he knows that it inexplicably really  _ does something _ for Patrick. But this… this doesn’t feel like that. He turns to look at David who is still not making eye contact with him, his knuckles white where he’s gripping at his sweater.

David has had a traumatic day, and now he’s asking — genuinely asking — for something he needs. And Patrick can ignore the disquiet in his gut to give him that.

“Okay, David,” he says quietly, and David turns to look at him for the first time since he got in the car. “As long as you  _ promise _ you’ll safeword the second it gets uncomfortable.”

David nods, eyes wide. “I will,” he says. “Thank you.”

“I might need a bit of warmup, though,” Patrick tells him. “Join me in the shower?”

David's nodding quickens before he steps out of the car.

They don’t talk much as they enter the house, David trailing Patrick up the stairs. Patrick starts running the shower while David gets undressed, and once the water has warmed up he strips off his own clothes as quickly as he can before joining David under the spray. They get cleaned up, and they kiss, and they rut against each other without any intention of following it through but just because it feels good. Once they’re done they dry off, and Patrick gathers up both of their clothes before they make their way back into the bedroom. By the time he’s folded David’s sweater and put it on the dresser he turns back to the bed to see David with one knee propped up, fingering himself open quickly and efficiently, and the sight is enough to get Patrick from mostly aroused to fully hard in a matter of seconds. 

“David, god,” he murmurs. David flashes him a quick grin, dimple appearing and disappearing in a moment, before he tilts his head towards the bedside drawer.

“You get ready too, please,” he says, and Patrick chuckles even as he obeys the instruction. By the time he gets the condom on David is finished, spread out on the bed with a pillow under his hips and looking up at him, and Patrick’s stomach starts to churn. 

“David,” he says quietly, “I need you to tell me what you’re going to do. What you’re going to say.”

David bites his lip for a moment. “I’m going to struggle while you hold me down,” he says quickly.  _ “No _ and  _ don’t _ and  _ stop _ all mean keep going. So does green, obviously. Yellow if I need a break, red if I need you to stop completely.”

Patrick sucks a deep breath in through his nose, willing his pulse to steady. He can work with that, he’s pretty sure. “All right,” he says, and climbs on the bed so he’s between David’s legs. He steadies himself with one hand on David’s hip and pushes into him in one long, smooth stroke before he grabs both of David’s hands in his own, pressing their entire forearms together from knuckle to elbow.

“Green,” David whispers in his ear, and then he bucks up  _ hard. _ Patrick hadn’t actually considered that David is genuinely strong and he shifts his grip, leaning most of his weight on David and pinning him down as he fucks into him again and again.

David doesn’t hold back and it’s good, much better than Patrick expected. There’s something thrilling about the sheer physicality required to keep David in place that is really doing something for him, and it’s helped by the fact that for all that the rest of David’s body is trying to get away his hips come up to meet Patrick stroke for stroke. It’s more like wrestling than sex, Patrick concentrating as much on how to keep David pinned to the mattress as he is on his cock; he leans down to bite at David’s collarbone, far rougher than he normally would, and David moans underneath him.

But then David cries, “Patrick, stop!” and Patrick’s stomach lurches. 

_ Stop means keep going, _ he tells himself firmly, and follows it quickly with  _ David needs this. _ He thrusts into him a few more times, but then David says “Stop” again and it doesn’t feel good at all; he feels like he’s going to be sick.

“I can’t— red,” he chokes out, pulling out before David can say anything and scrambling to the end of the bed, already most of the way to soft as he scrubs his hand over his eyes. When the rolling nausea has settled he looks up to see David sitting up and eyeing him warily, the pillow that was underneath his hips a moment ago now pulled into his lap.

“David, I’m so sorry,” he says helplessly.

David just shakes his head, then nods, his lips pressed tight together.

“I just—” Patrick starts to explain, but before he can get any further David bursts into tears.

“Shit, David,” he whispers, crawling back up the bed until David is within arms’ reach. “Hey, it’s okay — can I hold you?”

David nods, a little jerkily, so Patrick shuffles around until he’s sitting behind him, David’s back leaning against Patrick’s chest. Patrick wraps both arms tight around him and buries his lips in David’s hair as he feels the way David is heaving sobs from deep in his gut, and he tries to communicate through his touch that he’s here, that he’s not going anywhere.

Patrick doesn’t know how much later it is before they speak again: long enough for David’s crying to have subsided, long enough for Patrick to have turned off all the lights and put the lube back in the drawer, long enough for them to have wordlessly agreed to get under the covers. Patrick is on his back, his arm around David’s shoulders while David’s head rests on his chest, when David finally breaks the silence.

“I just didn’t want to  _ think _ about it,” he says. “I wanted to get out of my head.”

Guilt washes through Patrick, making him flinch. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, but David shakes his head.

“I would have had to think about it at some point,” he says. “And I shouldn’t have pushed it. I know you like to talk things through, and I shouldn’t have insisted that we not do that.”

Patrick kisses the top of his head. “And I should have said no when I wasn’t comfortable with it, David,” he says. “None of this is your fault.”

There’s another long, contented silence before David blurts out, “You were  _ such _ an asshole today.”

Patrick can’t choke back the laughter that bubbles up his chest and bursts out of his mouth, and David sits up, affronted. “Why is that funny?” 

Patrick sobers immediately. “The way I spoke to you today, David, that’s not funny at all,” he says seriously. “I’m just laughing because— would you have said that to me a year ago? Or would you have been too afraid that I’d break up with you over it?”

David opens his mouth before closing it again with a shake of his head and a twisted little half-smile like he finds Patrick deeply amusing. “This is a very weird relationship milestone to be excited about,” he says finally, settling his head back into Patrick’s chest.

Patrick hums. “Everything about our relationship excites me, David,” he says, more emotion than he intended bleeding out into his voice. He can feel David’s smile against his chest, and he tightens his grip on David’s shoulder.

The silence stretches out again, until it stretches into sleep.

* * *

David is a cuddler, and Patrick knows that on the nights David sleeps over he’ll wake up with David draped all over him like a very affectionate octopus. Which is why it’s disorienting, at first, when he blinks awake only to find that he’s the big spoon, wrapped carefully around David with the arm he isn’t lying on across his chest, pulling him close. The next thing he registers is that David’s hand is on top of his, pulling Patrick’s arm even closer to his torso, and Patrick can’t contain his grin even as he presses a soft kiss to the back of David’s neck. He can feel by the way David shifts underneath him that he’s waking up and it’s only when David rocks back into him, his ass pressing into Patrick’s pelvis, that he remembers suddenly that they never got dressed before falling asleep last night.

David lets out a breathy moan before he twists his neck to kiss Patrick messily, his eyelids still half-closed. “Fuck me,” he pants against Patrick’s lips when he pulls away. “Just like this, _ please.” _

Patrick pulls back for a second to rake his eyes over David’s face, but he can’t see any of the stress of yesterday written there — just lust and heat. He rolls over, scrambling in his bedside drawer for lube and a condom before he turns back around, trailing kisses down David’s spine while he slicks up his fingers before pulling back so that he can look as he presses the tip of his index finger to David’s hole. He’s planning to tease, draw it out, but to his surprise David rocks his hips back sharply so that Patrick slips inside him up to the second knuckle.

“Come on, more,” David mutters under his breath. Patrick obliges, fingering David open steadily until they’re both breathing heavily, and then he shifts back slightly so he has enough room to roll the condom on. He guides his cock between David’s cheeks, pressing just the head inside and making David gasp before he places a steadying hand on David’s hip and slides the rest of the way inside him in one smooth stroke. David’s hands flail for a moment and Patrick hesitates, but then David grabs his wrist and, to Patrick’s surprise, hauls him into the same position they were in when he woke up — his hand splayed across David’s chest, his arm running down the length of David’s torso. Then David rocks back into him again and Patrick takes the unsubtle hint, using David’s chest as leverage as he fucks into him, his lips pressed to David’s back. 

They’re both fighting to be quiet, but as David’s breaths get shorter and sharper Patrick starts to slide his hand down towards David’s dick but David clutches at him, pressing his hand even tighter to David’s chest. 

“Don’t you want—” Patrick starts, and David throws his head back to kiss Patrick again.

“I think,” he pants, “if you keep— I won’t need— oh  _ god.” _ The last two words are far too loud and without thinking, Patrick brings his hand up to clamp over David’s mouth. David just grunts, thrusting back even harder two, three more times before he stills, whining under Patrick’s hand and clenching all around him as he comes, cock untouched.

“Holy fuck, David,” Patrick groans, yanking his hand away from David’s mouth and bringing it back to his hip. He’s made David come untouched once before, months ago, and he’d forgotten how unimaginably hot it was. He digs his fingers tight into David’s flesh as he chases his own orgasm, and it’s not long before he’s sinking his teeth into the soft skin on David’s shoulder to muffle a yell. 

“Good morning,” David finally says wryly, once their breathing has returned to normal, and Patrick muffles his laugh in the space between David’s shoulder blades. He reaches down, gripping the base of the condom as he slowly slides out of David, but before he can do anything with it the door bursts open and they both freeze.

“Good morning, gentlemen!” Ray’s cheerful voice sings out as Patrick throws a silent prayer of gratitude into the universe that they never kicked off the blankets. “I thought I heard that you were awake. I just wanted to let you know that I have an early client meeting, so I’m sorry I won’t be able to join you for breakfast this morning.” 

“Oh no,” David murmurs, quiet enough that it could almost pass for sincere.

“Thanks for letting us know, Ray,” Patrick grits out through his teeth. “Would you mind shutting the door on the way out?”

“Of course! Patrick, I’ll see you tonight — David, will I be seeing you as well?” 

“Um, probably not, Ray.”

“Well, next time then.” Ray’s smile doesn’t dim as he steps out of the door, thankfully pulling it closed behind him.

“What the fuck,” David mutters, burrowing further into the blankets as Patrick sighs.

“I know,” he says, pressing a conciliatory kiss to the back of David’s head as he finally takes the condom off. “I’ll talk to him.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Come and find me on [Tumblr](http://yourbuttervoicedbeau.tumblr.com).


End file.
